


Two halves of a whole

by ttimsshel



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Attempt at Humor, M/M, Pre-Slash, Rumors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:02:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27247735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ttimsshel/pseuds/ttimsshel
Summary: There were so many rumours about generals Kenobi and Skywalker all over the galaxy.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 7
Kudos: 101





	Two halves of a whole

“You look–”

“Keep your remarks to yourself, please,” Obi-Wan said, rubbing his nose.

Anakin strummed his fingers on the desk, grinning through his teeth. (Well, there were only thirty of them. Anakin lost two his front teeth during yesterday's fight with Ventress. He was promised to be fitted with new dental prostheses as soon as possible, but for now Obi-Wan had to really strain to hear what Anakin was saying).

“Maybe I wanted to say that you looked beautiful? Amazing?”

“Tell me something I don't know,” Obi-Wan muttered, watching Anakin with his eyes half closed.

He was so tired.

Obi-Wan hadn't slept properly in nearly a week. He knew Anakin knew it; his former padawan dropped a few subtle hints that he needed to rest. In all fairness, Anakin didn't look so good himself: a gaping hole in his teeth, a wicked bruise on his cheek. His hair was greasy and messy. It had become dark under his eyes.

But when it came to him, Anakin just tented to ignore all those things.

“When do you think we will be on Coruscant?” Anakin decided to change the subject.

Obi-Wan didn't want to think about Coruscant. He didn't want to think about where they would be sent out within the next week. He didn't want to think about whether they would be together or apart. He scratched his dirty beard and said, finally, “Why are you so gunning to go back to Coruscant?”

Anakin blinked across at Obi-Wan.

“Excuse me, what did you say?”

“You need to rest,” Obi-Wan sighed, getting his hands onto the table.

He was going to leave the table and put Anakin to bed like a youngling, but Anakin said, softly and firmly, “No. Master. Can we please just sit here and not say a word?”

Obi-Wan looked at his former padawan with expression of wonder. Just sit here and not say a word? That didn't sound like Anakin at all. He took a deep breath and leaned back on the seat, crossing his arms.

His gaze fell upon the drinks on the table.

Anakin was watching someone from the side out of the corner of his eye, frowning. Obi-Wan noticed how his former apprentice winced either because of the wounds he suffered or from something else. There was lots of noise in the cantina, but when Obi-Wan listened carefully he could hear some words and fragments. Obi-Wan shrugged and stretched his legs under the table, reaching for Anakin's legs.

“What's wrong?” he blurted out. He couldn't stand the silence any longer.

Anakin's silence had always led them into trouble.

Anakin puckered his lips.

“Nothing. Be quiet, please.”

“Anakin?” Obi-Wan asked, carefully.

“I'm meditating,” Anakin said, obediently. Obi-Wan snorted. “I need to collect my thoughts.”

_“Here?”_

Somebody beat someone in Sabacc. The gaming table was thrown against the wall. The glasses dropped to the floor. Obi-Wan didn't even look back at that mess. He raised an eyebrow and took a hard look at Anakin.

Anakin sighed and ruffled his messy hair. He opened his mouth, but apparently something caught his attention from Obi-Wan and Anakin turned his head to the right.

And Obi-Wan realized then what that was about.

He left the table and walked right up to his former padawan.

“Where are you going?” Anakin asked, absently.

Obi-Wan sat down next to Anakin and said nothing. They were sitting so close to each other that Obi-Wan could feel Anakin’s knee next to his under the table. Anakin flinched intentionally, looking at his former master with question in his eyes.

“So. Which ones?”

Anakin said, tone low and disgruntled, “Look at the centre. One Weequay and two human males.”

Obi-Wan caught them out of the corner of his eye and listened carefully to their conversation.

“I bet,” said a human with short blond hair, drunkenly, squeezing the handle of his tankard tightly, “it's hovering over the planet… What tha hell is tha’ name… Tha’ ship…”

“Ship? A fucking ship, Ronnie? Tha’ not just a fucking ship, ya moron! Tha’ a fucking flagship!” It was a dark-skinned man with a scar on his forehead. He seemed to be more clearheaded than his friends. And apparently Ronnie’s words insulted him deeply. “The name’s… It's got a name… Reve–rese–revol… The name’s _Reservoir!_ ”

“It’s _Resolute_ , ya idiot!” The Weequay said. “It’s _Resolute_ , tha’ for sure. That Skywalker’s Star Destroyer.”

“’ey! What if they are here around somewhere, Skywalker and Kenobi? We hafta be careful. We’ve been talkin’ s’long ‘bout them,” Ronnie said, hesitantly.

The dark-skinned man nudged him.

“The Sith ya say, Ronnie! What tha hell are the Jedi, the generals of the fucking GAR doing here, man? _Here._ ”

He waved a hand in that meaningful way. The Weequay hummed in the affirmative, crawling back into the tankard. Obi-Wan somewhat agreed with him.

He turned around slowly and nearly bumped his forehead with Anakin’s who moved closer in order not to miss a single word.

“What exactly was they talking about us?”

Anakin’s mouth twitched in a grin and he looked at the table again.

“The Jedi must’ve been grown in the lab,” said the Weequay, suddenly. “I mean, like the clones. Whatcha think ‘bout that, Van Zandt?”

“Hold on, Abbar,” the dark-skinned man said. “Wait a minute. If the Jedi grew the clones who the fuck grew the Jedi?”

That was apparently a very serious question for all three. Obi-Wan turned back to his former padawan and saw the reflection of his own joy in Anakin’s eyes.

“If we assume for just a moment that it’s true,” Obi-Wan said as a joke, “can I call you my _vod_ in that case?”

“You can call me your _vod_ in any case,” Anakin said with a soft and firm voice and turned away hastily.

He seemed to be embarrassed by his own words.

Abbar cleared his throat and continued to speak, “I know nothin’ ‘bout cloning, but Skywalker and Kenobi, they’re brothers, ‘m tellin’ ya right now!”

He put an end to the conversation, taking a deep sip from his glass of… whatever it was. Anakin snorted a laugh against the back of Obi-Wan’s neck. It felt… good.

“No way, mate.” The silence was broken by Ronnie’s soft voice. “How are they brothers? They look nothin’ like brothers.”

“What are you talkin’ ‘bout?!” the Weequay shouted. “They look same to me! You humans all look same to me, though...”

“Skywalker is prettier,” Van Zandt said, firm.

“This is bullshit!” Ronnie said, cutting Van Zandt off. “I like Kenobi more.”

Abbar threw his head back and laughed, splashing his beer all over the table.

“He's one of those, ya know, Zandt; he is a faggot. He knows better who’s prettier,” he said and Van Zandt laughed too.

Ronnie frowned across at his blitzed mates.

“Something’s coming,” Anakin said, looking amused. “I know that face. It’s a clever thought on the tip of his tongue.”

“Are there any clever thoughts in this head?” Obi-Wan snorted, incredulously.

“We’re about to find out,” Anakin said with anticipation.

When Abbar and Van Zandt stopped laughing, Ronnie sat forward, resting his chest on the table. His drunk face lit up and Obi-Wan held his breath. No holodetective had ever had such intrigue and excitement of the story.

“Speakin’ as a faggot. Do ya know what I think ‘bout them?” Ronnie said, looking smug. Obi-Wan and Anakin put on their listening ears, following Van Zandt and Abbar’s examples. “Kenobi and Skywalker, they’re not brothers. Tha’ obvious, that’s it.”

“Oh yeah?” Abbar said. “So who are they then, smart guy?”

“Take a guess,” Ronnie said, mysteriously.

Obi-Wan scoffed and Anakin laughed quietly.

“’ey! Ronnie! Stop fuckin’ with us!” Abbar demanded. “Who are they? Who?”

Ronnie opened his mouth to answer, but at this moment, Van Zandt finished his beer and put his tankard on the table with a bang. He wiped his lips, got up and said, “They’re fucking, damn it! The hell are ya surprised, mate? It’s not even a secret. Like you all never ever knew!”

That was a short but impressive speech. Van Zandt dropped a few credits on the table and lurched toward the exit, leaving his friends in silence.

Obi-Wan turned back to Anakin, slowly. Anakin was giggling, quietly, and trying to cover up his flushed cheeks. Obi-Wan got a little bump with Anakin’s knee, pulled two tankards towards them, using the Force, and lifted his full glass up in the air

“Let us drink to the union of two souls that emerged… Oh, where did it emerged? On the planet what we exactly, darling?”

The waitress stopped at their table and smiled at Obi-Wan. “On Bauta, Master.”

“So here’s to Bauta,” Anakin said, raising his glass.

“Here’s to Bauta.”

Obi-Wan swallowed his drink, put down his glass and decided to listen to what was being discussed at the familiar table one last time.

“They’re sleepin’ together, it’s as plain as day. Oh, c’mon, it’s not like I speak Mando’a, ya just don’t wanna understand me.” That was Ronnie was saying. Abbar was looking at him as he was rethinking his life. “When I saw ‘em on the holos, I knew it right away. Normal men don’t behave tha’ way. Normal men don’t stare at each other like that.”

“Windu’s always said that I’m not normal,” Anakin said, looking smug. Obi-Wan snorted. Anakin licked his wet lips and continued, “Just wondering how do we stare at each other?”

“Like the normal men don’t, I suppose,” Obi-Wan said, chuckling, and leaned back on Anakin’s shoulder.

“Hm. Do you remember Carthage?” Anankin asked, lazily. “I do remember the one pub there. Someone out there said that I was a dragon because no human was capable of moving like I was. And you were my treasure. Because your hair was ruddy with glints of gold.”

Obi-Wan held back from rolling his eyes.

“Why do you always have to bring that up? It seems to be your favourite story,” he muttered.

Anakin shrugged.

“Perhaps it is. And what’s your favourite story, Master?”

Obi-Wan bit his lip, musing. He reached for Anakin’s hand on the table and started drawing invisible patterns on Anakin’s skin with his fingernails. Obi-Wan put his head back and closed his tired eyes for a couple of seconds.

“Well, I once heard a story. On Bauta. It’s my favourite,” he whispered.

Anakin put his hands on Obi-Wan’s and squeezed his fingers tightly.

They could still hear Ronnie’s drunken speech from far away. “But they are not just fuckin’, ya understand that, don’t ya, moron? ‘ave you seen the way they fight? Like one warrior in two bodies. Like two halves of a whole.”

“Like two halves of a whole,” Abbar repeated as he was echo. “So maybe they’re clones after all? They look same, that’s it…”

But Obi-Wan stopped caring about that when Anakin put his hand on his shoulder and dragged Obi-Wan along to the exit.

At the end of the day, they both needed to rest.


End file.
